


as soft as a kiss to your palm

by lilithiumwords



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Crossdressing, Fluff, M/M, Modeling, Nude Modeling, Secrets, Softcore Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 02:52:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14416101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilithiumwords/pseuds/lilithiumwords
Summary: To pay his way through college, Yuuri does erotic modeling for a while and keeps it secret. One day, Viktor finds out.





	as soft as a kiss to your palm

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the enablers who wanted a softcore porn AU. You know who you are. (*´♡`*)

"How is this? Is it... okay?"

"Perfect, darling. Now lean back a little and slide your hand up your thigh, like your garter is about to slip -- right, just like that."

Yuuri tilts his head back to stare at the ceiling, wondering how the pictures will turn out. For once, he isn't blushing. He blushed a lot in the beginning, when he was first introduced to risqué poses and tiny pieces of cloth. Make-up does wonders these days; plus most of his fans seem to like the pictures where Yuuri looks shy or embarrassed.

He _is_ embarrassed, for sure. Modeling for softcore porn is nothing short of embarrassing, yet Yuuri does it anyway.

It pays really, really well.

He bites his lip, sending up another feeble prayer that these pictures never make their way back to his parents, and sighs.

"Pause for make-up! Yuuri, sweetie, stop biting your lip," orders Francine, his photographer and the genius behind _Petals and Plumes_ , the studio handling Yuuri's contract.

"Sorry."

The stockings and the garter belt aren't uncomfortable, exactly. Yuuri has worn them a few times before, and his biggest problem is that the stockings tend to slip down. Today he is wearing thigh highs and shorts that should be illegal but somehow aren't, and nothing else. Francine had wanted to put Yuuri in a dress, but Yuuri had put his foot down on that.

He sits still as the make-up artist comes over to reapply the rouge to his lips, holding back another sigh. Soon will be his least favorite part; the part where everyone in the room gets to watch Yuuri act like he's going to have an orgasm.

That is the limit on what Yuuri will do. He refuses to do anything with another person; he doesn't particularly care about his virginity, but he doesn't want to share that intimacy with anyone. Pretending to give himself a handjob in front of half a dozen people isn't as bad as giving up that private part of himself to someone who isn't even his lover.

It takes _forever_ , though, because Francine always wants to take a million pictures, and Yuuri gets frustrated over doing the same pose over and over again. He'll deal with it, though, because the money really is good, and it's the only way Yuuri can continue to pay for his skating equipment.

"Alright, Yuuri," says Francine, grinning at him. "Time to put on that pretty 'O' face."

"Okay," mutters Yuuri, before arching his back and pressing into the pillow perfectly situated over his lap. He isn't even aroused at this point. His fans -- of which he has _many,_ for some insane reason -- don't realize it, though.

"Someone get the spray bottle. Let's make you sweaty!"

Yuuri doesn't sigh, but it's a near thing.

Just another day at the job.

~*~

The new magazine arrives two weeks later. Yuuri gets a free copy of every issue he appears in, and Phichit, his best friend and his worst enabler, _loves_ them. Yuuri lets him keep all of them, because he doesn't ever want to look at them.

"Yuuri, you look so sexy in this one!" exclaims Phichit, holding up the magazine in delight. Yuuri pretends it isn't there as he types on his laptop.

"I'm writing a paper, Phichit."

"No, really! I love these pictures with the stockings. You should have worn a dress!" Phichit spreads the magazine over their wobbly coffee table, careful not to crease the shiny pages.

Yuuri sighs. "They tried to make me wear one, but I told them it didn't fit. I probably won't get out of it next time, though."

Phichit looks up at him and grins. "What color is it? Red? You would look really good in red, Yuuri. Or black." He stares at Yuuri expectantly, until Yuuri heaves another sigh and saves his document.

"It was red, just so you know," Yuuri mutters, finally glancing at the magazine. The shots don't look that bad. Yuuri doesn't look like himself at all; he never wears his glasses in the pictures, and his hair is always styled differently. It's the only way he can keep his anonymity. "Red and clingy. It was way too sexy."

"Ooh, so sexy," says Phichit, winking at him before going back to perusing the magazine.

Yuuri rolls his eyes and opens up his email app on his phone. As expected, Francine has already emailed him about his next job. She always manages to email him within a few hours of the magazine arriving; Yuuri still doesn't know how she knows.

His eyes widen as he reads the message. "Oh, shit."

Phichit looks up in concern. "What is it?"

Yuuri drops the phone in his lap and covers his face. "That stupid calendar I did last month? Apparently they got a lot of requests for another one, _with just me._ It's my own fault for doing February! I should have known it was for Valentine's Day!" he cries in dismay. He should have never signed up for this stupid modeling contract!

Phichit starts laughing. Yuuri feels perfectly justified in throwing a pillow at his face.

~*~

The calendar featuring only Yuuri is so popular that they have to do a second print, then a third. Yuuri is mildly amazed by the craze behind his popularity. It certainly lands him more modeling shoots, which is both a gift and a curse. The money is very good, and he starts making enough to put it into savings. On the other hand, each photo taken keeps raising the possibility of getting recognized by someone who _knows him_.

He really, really hopes that no one in the skating community finds out about his erotic modeling. He hopes the combination of conveniently placed accents, over-the-top make-up, and illicit clothing make it seem like he's someone else in the pictures. Francine has kept his identity secret in the magazines, crediting Yuuri under a fake name, but Yuuri still worries. Most of all, he desperately hopes that Viktor Nikiforov _never_ sees those pictures; he couldn't handle the shame.

(He does wear the dress eventually. Yuuri looks amazing in it, and he wonders if he could ever pull off something so feminine in real life. It reminds him of the first skate he saw of Viktor, in that beautiful outfit that made him look both feminine and masculine. Yuuri doubts he could manage such a look, though.)

~*~

When Yuuri gets invited to the Grand Prix Final, he ends his contract with _Petals and Plumes_. Francine is very sad to see him go, clasping his hand tightly after Yuuri signs the last of his papers.

"You were our best model," Francine sighs, her red curls bouncing as she turns her head to look at the large poster of Yuuri wearing a top hat, lace panties, and nothing else, taking up half the wall in the hallway outside her office. "I wish you luck in your competition. Don't worry, I'll be sending you free copies of the magazine for life!"

"Thanks, but that's okay," Yuuri says hurriedly, knowing that he won't be able to escape that particular fate. Maybe when he moves back to Japan, they'll lose his address. Or they can send the magazines to Phichit, who actually likes them. "You don't have to."

"I insist!" Francine smiles at him, pats his hand one more time, and goes to make copies of the papers. She stuffs several magazines and even a few DVDs into Yuuri's bag before walking him down to the lobby, smiling all the while. As Yuuri makes his escape, Francine waves happily at him from the front desk. "Remember, you can always come back if you want to model for us again! Good luck, Yuuri!"

Yuuri sighs as he finally leaves. At last, he is free of this embarrassment.

~*~

Or so Yuuri thinks, until a year and a half later, when Viktor Nikiforov -- his coach, his fiancé, and the love of his life -- walks into the living room one day carrying a large, nondescript box, having just come back from walking Makkachin. Yuuri is busy playing Fallout 4 on the TV and barely pays him any attention.

"Package for you," Viktor says with a grunt, setting the box on the table. "Wow, it's heavy!"

"Who's it from?" Yuuri asks without looking at him, fingers flying over the controller.

"Phichit, apparently," Viktor says. "Shall I open it for you?"

"Go ahead, I'm just going to get this achievement," Yuuri replies. He pays no more attention, entirely focused on his game, as Viktor retrieves a box cutter, slices open the box, and begins to pull out several glossy magazines.

Half an hour later, Yuuri jumps off the couch in triumph when he gets his achievement. "Yes!" he crows, tossing the controller down and throwing his hands in the air. "Finally! I've been trying to unlock that for ages! Viktor, we should celebrate!" Yuuri turns around with a happy smile, only to freeze in shock when he lays eyes on what's in Viktor's hands.

A magazine, with a very familiar logo.

Viktor is sitting at the table now, flipping through the magazines slowly. Yuuri stares blankly down at the magazine, then at the placid expression on Viktor's face, as he flips through the issue that features Yuuri in an extremely short red dress and heels. Yuuri is on the cover of that one.

"Viktor," Yuuri whispers. Maybe he can get to the box before Viktor reads the rest of them. Maybe he can run away and live under a bridge somewhere in Russia. Maybe he can --

"Phichit sent you a letter," Viktor says offhandedly. He nods to a piece of paper sitting beside the open box, turning a page.

Yuuri gulps, his shoulders sinking, then slowly crosses the room. He doesn't know how to read the expression on Viktor's face. Is Viktor angry? He doesn't look angry, but Viktor is very good at hiding his temper.

Slowly, gingerly, Yuuri picks up the letter to read.

> _Dear Yuuri,_  
>  _Hello, Yuuri! Look what I found. I was going through my old things and found these, and I thought you should have them! I bet your sexy fiancé will enjoy them. You can thank me later!_  
>  _Your dear friend,_  
>  _Phichit Chulanont_

_Phichit._ Yuuri is going to kill him. 

"I can explain," Yuuri says weakly. Viktor chuckles and glances up at him over the top of the magazine. He isn't angry at all, and Yuuri stops short, bewildered.

"I think it's rather obvious, don't you? You modeled for these magazines. While you were in college, I assume. They're lovely pictures. I'm surprised nobody ever knew," Viktor says, looking back at the magazine. His heart beating fast, Yuuri moves to stand beside him, glancing down at a two page spread of himself almost completely nude, but for a silky blanket carefully covering Yuuri's lap. "It's obviously you. I know that little mark on your hip. Is it a birth mark?"

"Yeah," Yuuri says, swallowing nervously. "Viktor... I can explain..."

Viktor smiles up at him, looking faintly worried. "What's wrong, Yuuri? Was it a bad experience? Did they ever hurt you?"

Yuuri flails a little. "Oh, no! This company was very nice! They let me work under a fake name and everything, and they respected my limits, and..." His shoulders sag when Viktor keeps smiling. "You don't... mind? It... it paid a lot, and my equipment was expensive, so... I felt like I needed to do it..."

Viktor's eyes widen, and he drops the magazine to take Yuuri's hands. "Of course not, sweetheart. I'm very proud of you! You worked your way through college with this, even though you must have been so embarrassed!" He presses a few kisses to Yuuri's hands, his palms, even the tips of his fingers, his eyes wide and earnest.

Yuuri nearly sways in relief. He lets Viktor tug him down into his lap, wrapping his arms around Viktor and curling into him. Viktor presses his lips to Yuuri's forehead, breathing warm air against his skin. He has always worried about Viktor finding out, and yet... he should have known better. Viktor has always accepted every part of him, and this is no different.

"Do you have any favorites?" Viktor murmurs, and Yuuri's heart skips a beat.

"Maybe one or two..."

Viktor laughs softly. "Then how about you show me, darling? Perhaps we can reenact them together."

"...okay."


End file.
